


I’m Here to Scream of the War on Peace

by VivificanousPrime



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Protests, Religion, peaceful protest turned violent, sacrificing morals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:20:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27904360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VivificanousPrime/pseuds/VivificanousPrime
Summary: Soundwave leads a peaceful protest through Iacon that is quick to turn sour, though not by the Decepticons' doing. When chaos breaks out, a moral decision must be made if their cause is to succeed.
Relationships: Shockwave/Soundwave (Transformers)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 21





	I’m Here to Scream of the War on Peace

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! 
> 
> Heed the rating, please. This fic is not light. 
> 
> Title and mood inspired by Fall Out Boy's "Save Rock & Roll".

The ground under him was warm. If he could escape into himself enough, there was a kind of peace one could only reach here in this state of vulnerable devotion. There were the sounds of soft vents and engines idling. There was a hum in the air from the overwhelm anticipation and fear. There was the sense that, if all else failed, these final moments were a lovely tribute.

Soundwave cycled his vents, slow and deep, to calm whatever racing thoughts sought to leave his resolve behind. It wouldn’t pay to quake now. In fact, it would cost himself and all those beside him dearly. He leaned back to lighten the pressing of his clasped hands on the ground, his forehead still connected to the back of them. On his knees, bent over, completely at the mercy of his party and nearby opposition, he sought to still himself. When he did rise, leaning back on his knees for a moment of reflection before coming to a stand, no one made to comment.

Ahead of them was the beginning of their route. A new path leading to the same end goal as the fateful march Megatron had led orns ago. A new leader of their people with the same calls for change as the passionate, imposing gladiator.

The weight of his responsibility crept back into him despite his prayer for solace. Soundwave was well aware he was no Megatron. He had not the force of his words or presence to back all that he said and did. All he possessed was knowledge very few were willing to listen to. The more aware and educated he became of the situation he and countless others were in, the more aware he was of the lack of empathy in this world.

With an upset spark and mind, he had no choice but to refuse to join his friend on the road to Iacon’s capital building. With regret and a heavy spark, he had battled with his guilt after Megatron’s arrest and the outright murder of hundreds of other protestors.

Now, he was calmer. Now, Megatron’s words and ideas and experiences were given life in _Peace Through Tyranny_. Now, the ignorant were being forced to accept the knowledge presented to them and come to terms with other truths. Now was the time to try again.

Soundwave was no Megatron. He knew there was no purpose in his somber speeches and quiet reasoning. If society was bent on maintaining him as the passive figure of their movement, then he would do as Megatron had. He would accept this view of him and twist it into something beneficial. He would be the quiet mech not so easily swayed into action. It would make what he was about to do all the more impactful.

A brush against his leg had Soundwave looking down at his creation. Ravage was practically vibrating in anticipation, her soft growls to encourage him forward coming across to him as nothing short of precious. And as a reminder of what they all stood to lose.

Before he could once more doubt his decisions, Soundwave looked up and forward. A beat of stillness, then he took the first step towards fate.

The route itself was no complicated thing. It was long but not overly winding, passing through just enough streets to raise awareness but no more than would allow their opposition to form a serious collective.

There was nothing to be done, though, for the anti-protesters intent on cursing their calls for action. As Soundwave led the gathering of Cybertron’s lowest lives down Iacon’s glistening streets, the residences stood on the sidewalks, a stubborn fight filling them with the strangest of rage.

Soundwave stared at them as he walked past. A smaller, lithe mech was shaking as he screamed, jarringly running back and forth along the side of their marching crowd.

“We all have value, you idiots!” he yelled, waving a sign of his own that said just as much with a large blue line drawn through their symbol.

Soundwave’s anxiety rose as someone from his crowd chimed in, yelling back in reply, “Then mean it!”

He looked over his shoulder to see who had risked the interaction with a mixture of pride and dread. When no one appeared any more attentive to the people bordering them, Soundwave had no choice but to looked ahead again.

 _I could find them for you_ , Ravage offered, brushing up against his leg as they continued to walk side by side.

 _We have already instructed each of them not to interact with the others_ , he reminded her.

 _Clearly someone is reaching their breaking point_ , she pointed out with some measure of humor. _I could simply remind a few of them of the foolishness in arguing with a stubborn ignorant_.

Soundwave glanced down at her, smirking behind his mask. _You would sneak away from me regardless._

Ravage didn’t look up at him, perhaps to hide the grin she was sporting.

 _Go among them and be safe_ , he relented. _Do no agitate the unyielding_.

She sent him her satisfaction from getting what she wanted over their bond before slowing her pace to slink away into the crowd just behind them. Soundwave cycled his vents and sent a quick prayer to Primus that she be kept safe should this march fall apart as Megatron’s had.

The people on the sidelines maintained their hate filled arguments, so Soundwave tuned them out, focusing instead on his people and their words and calls. Flyhigh was continuing to lead their chants despite the screams trying to drown their pleas.

“This light of mine!” Flyhigh called out.

In a loud collective, his people shouted back, “It shines!”

“This light of mine!” he called again, once more with the response, “It shines!”

“With this light,” he called out.

“Let me shine!” came the reply, louder this time and with the force of lifetimes of emotions and sparkache behind it.

Soundwave smiled, letting the hope his people so proudly displayed fill him with the confidence he needed to continue walking. His crowd erupted once more, paying no heed to the people ridiculing their desires for a just society.

“What are we here for?” Flyhigh called out.

“For the people without a voice!”

“Say their names!” Flyhigh prompted.

Soundwave focused on the road ahead of them as the names of gladiators he had lived beside and even those he had been forced to kill were called out and given a second life. He absorbed every name of the people who had died for no reason other than being created they way they were by the same god his opponents attacked him with. His spark spun faster the more upset he became, and he fought to quiet himself to that calm state that ensured his decisions were made carefully and with clarity. The names still resonated with him even after the chant had ended, the knowledge of each of them and the reasons for their deaths a burden on him and his peace.

“Where are we?” Flyhigh shouted.

“In a world that hates us!”

“Where are we?”

“In a society that silences us!”

“Where are we?”

“In a place of hate and sorrow!”

“To those who think otherwise!”

“You are being deceived!”

The end of the chant persisted for a long time more, the echo of what had become Megatron’s mantra a source of uplifting power. Over and over it was shouted, it’s truth showcased to those who’s only response was denial.

Soundwave pitied them. With all their academia and privilege, Iacon was filled with Cybertron’s most uneducated. But what more was he to do to change their minds and open their sparks? It was impossible for him to reach into anyone and force a change in their fundamental views of the world and their society. He could only show them, through his actions and words, the damaging aspects of the lives they lead. But no one was comfortable with the thought of being wrong, and not even Megatron could make the blind see.

Something hard collided with his shoulder, bouncing off and falling to the ground with a clang. Curious though he was, Soundwave refused to look down and break his pace. When someone behind him grunted, followed by a similar clang, he spared a glance over his shoulder. Flyhigh wore a thin frown but otherwise followed his lead in ignoring the disrespect. More sounds of objects colliding with armored plating filled the air alongside the chants of protest, but it wasn’t until a blaster went off that Soundwave acted.

Immediately, he scanned his crowd for any fallen or a source for the shot. Panic was beginning to set in, only heightened by another shot sounding off. Focusing intently, Soundwave opened his awareness to the minds around him in search of the agitator. To his far right, there was a young mech, his thoughts filled with notions of heroics and grandiose. No intention to kill, simply to frighten, but in Soundwave’s experience, there was a delicate line dividing the two.

As he moved in the mech’s direction, Ravage flooded the bond with calls for caution and a strong desire to be near, but Soundwave expressed in no uncertain terms that she remain right where she was deep within the crowd. The mech was easy to locate, brightly colored and lifting a rifle above his helm. Protesters quickly dispersed even as their leader maneuvered through them, everyone jarring as another shot rang out.

Soundwave locked eyes with the youth, relishing in the spot of fear his slow, calm advance inspired. “Remain peaceful,” he called out, praying he would listen. He came to a stand still when the mech backed away, rifle lowering with his confidence.

“Leave the kid alone!” someone shouted with the fury of a new spark.

He had no intentions of paying the unarmed any attention, but his choice was made for him as a body rammed into his side, knocking him to the ground.

Profanities were thrown his way as the person moved to pin him. Struggling against judgement, Soundwave curled in on himself, assessing some way to roll out from under the mech rather than push him off. A weak blow was dealt to his face mask, another to the back of his helm. For the briefest moment, he considered fighting back. In one, well placed blow, he could create a crater in the civilian’s helm. His instincts screamed to be used, to defeat an easy foe as he would have in the arena.

The weight atop him was suddenly lifted, emphasized by a yelp and the sounds of scratching plating. Soundwave rolled to his knees, prepared to knock the protester off the civilian, but the sight of an armed guard jolted him to stillness. A thick mech decked in the symbols of the High Council pressed a long shield onto the agitated mech, effectively pinning him down.

“I know you said you didn’t want my assistance, but I came, regardless.”

His spark nearly stopped spinning at the sound of that familiar voice. Twisting slightly, Soundwave caught sight of the Senator standing just behind him, a hand outstretched. His painting had changed again, from the pleasant light green and azure to matte purple and red. For a beat, Soundwave just stared at him in confusion before he absently accepted the assistance to his peds.

Shockwave grinned down at him, still clasping his hand. “Decided I couldn’t remain idle.” With his free servo, he gestured to the crowd and the Council Guards coming to stand alongside the protesters. “And I was fairly certain you wouldn’t mind my personal armada joining us.”

There wasn’t room to argue with that, try as he might to find a means to deny the Senator his involvement. Once confident civilians now backed away in submission. The youth bearing arms was swiftly subdued by a group of militia mechs surrounding him. Their march needed to remain peaceful, first and foremost. No matter his own discomfort regarding military protections, if this what they needed to maintain their stance, Soundwave decided it would be worth it.

“Notice anything?”

Soundwave turned back to the Senator, tilting his helm slightly in question.

“The paint,” Shockwave clarified, lifting their still joined hands to draw more attention to himself. “I figured I ought to match the cause.”

Twisting his hand free, Soundwave just nodded in acknowledgment. “Assistance: appreciated. March: must continue.”

The Senator’s grin falter briefly, but he shook whatever he felt away and motioned to the middle of the street like a guide. “Honored to be here.”

With the street now calm, Soundwave moved to the front of the crowd who awaited his assessment of the new arrivals. There was a more nervous energy bordered by these military mechs than there had been when the streets were filled with cries and threats for their lives. A perfectly understandable reaction given his people’s previous encounters, but he had every confidence they would quickly grow to trust. The guards were, after all, not facing them.

At the helm once more, Ravage emerged from the crowd to stand at his side again, a new determination in her spark to not leave him. Soundwave bent down to run a hand down her tense frame. When he rose, Shockwave was standing right beside him, glancing about himself in search of a purpose.

“Senator: willing?”

Shockwave snapped to attention, his grin returning as he assured him, “Most definitely.”

The irritations he harbored for the Senator slowly ebbed as Soundwave took in Shockwave’s disjointed thoughts and lost expression. The mech had spent so long existing above them, was so terribly aware of this, that his guilt was beginning to take shape.

Whether out of pity or some other, unobtainable reason, Soundwave weaved his right arm around Shockwave’s left, intertwining them. Not wanting to give him any time to consider the move as more than a simple peace offering, he stepped forward, dragging the larger mech with him. One step after another in relative peace melded together until he felt Shockwave finally relax and come to terms with the situation he placed himself in. Carefully, the senator folded his hand into his, waiting for a protest that never came.

They continued down several streets in that way, a Kaonite gladiator and a Senator from Iacon walking hand-in-hand. Whatever opposition people wished to screech on the sides of the street died at the sight of armed guards defending the crowd of people chanting calls for life and liberty.

All hopes were paused as they turned down the last street. The capital building was just up ahead and with it the last phase of their march. They were closer to the end than Megatron had ever been, but such a victory could not be celebrated. Countless rows of Enforcers blocked the end of the street, armed like the military headed for a raid.

Soundwave peered into the minds of his followers, finding their resolve cracking despite the confidence the Senator’s defense inspired. They knew, as well as he did, how Megatron’s march had ended. They had all either witnessed in person or through the news as he had the shots fired and blazes ignited.

The arm wound in his tightened as Shockwave’s hand squeezed his. Soundwave peered up at him, but the Senator held his focus on the building ahead of them with a hardened expression. “I have faith,” he said knowingly, squeezing his hand again.

Anger wanted to coil in his core and direct itself at the play against him. Shockwave’s earnest determination quelled it, though, and Soundwave found himself leaning into the comfort the Senator offered. Hands held in a stronger grip, they pressed forward.

The Enforcers did nothing more than stand there, weapons drawn, until their crowd evidently came too close. Rifles were raised, and the first few lines began to move towards them. Chants of protests only grew in volume to drown out the fears that were infecting them all.

They were a mere few paces away when an Enforcer called out, “That’s far enough!”

Soundwave obediently came to a halt, preparing himself for the inevitable debate. Shockwave, however, seemed to have his own agenda.

“This is a peaceful protest,” the Senator pointed out. “These people are protected under the very laws you uphold.”

“Senator,” the Enforcer addressed, “step aside or be complacent in crimes against the state.”

“This is a peaceful protest,” Shockwave reiterated. “ _You_ are all out of line.”

“We will end the riot whether you remove yourself or not.”

“Riot?” Shockwave loosened his grip on Soundwave to step forward, prompting several Enforcers to train their blasters on him.

“Sir, there were several accounts of assault—”

“Not by us.” Shockwave pointed a digit at the Enforcer, heedless of the additional weapons moving to aim at him or Soundwave squeezing his hand in quick successions.

Above the chants still ringing behind them, a shout came through. “Get out the way, you fragheads!”

There was no time to react, to pacify the opposition, before several shots went off. All protests were caught in throats as two mechs fell to the ground, holes burned through their chests.

Chaos took over, forcing everyone to scatter. Shockwave’s guards opened fire almost immediately to cover their escape, felling several Enforcers. Soundwave made to drop into a crouch and leave, but Shockwave sprinted backwards, dragging him along. They retreated well enough for the briefest of moments until Soundwave’s right side suddenly lost Shockwave’s touch. Their grips failed as several Enforcers yanked the Senator free of him. Shock froze him in place to watch as a serval mechs slammed Shockwave into the ground. The cracking of his friend’s helm called him back to reality in time to sprint away from Enforcers making to grab him as well.

He ran blindly, hyperaware that Ravage had left his side. Heedless of the shots raining through the crowd, he pushed through, calling out to his creation. A femme racing in front of him collapsed as an energon blast ran through her, but Soundwave had no means of stopping himself from tripping over her.

Time stopped for a few klicks after his body collided with the ground. He spared a glance down at his peds, at the femme he hoped was still alive. All that stared back at him were cold grey eyes.

Stumbling into a run, he cried out over the bond and into the air, “ _Ravage_!” He could sense her panic, her tore desires to defend herself and to maintain her morals.

Something flew past him, landing with a clank just up ahead. Fearing the worst, Soundwave nearly fell over again coming to a stop and turning back around. The canister settled then began to spin violently, emitting a thick smoke from both ends.

The cloud was quick to form and consume all visibility. More shots were heard but not seen, same as the screams that followed.

Eventually, Soundwave could sense Ravage nearby and desperately ran to her. They nearly rammed into each other, but he didn’t allow either of them time to rejoice in the little victory, opening his chest compartment for her to climb into. Safe now within him, Ravage began to unravel. All that she had seen replayed over and over again in her mind, overwhelming both of them.

Soundwave forced the bond closed to focus. The street was not never-ending, so if he could simply head toward the roadside, towards the many buildings that lined it, he could find cover and a means of escape. Iacon was an orderly designed place. If he could find a street or building he recognized, Soundwave was sure he could find his way to a sympathizer.

He chose a random direction, deciding to move was better than remaining crouched on the ground. Casting his awareness out amongst the crowd, he searched for minds free of the smoke clouds or hiding within the nearby buildings.

A group of protesters seemed to have found the right direction to move in, so he delved further into one’s mind to see where they headed. Through the mech’s eyes, Soundwave made out the edge of the street and the wall of a local bank. The mech’s paranoia consumed him, causing his view to shift between the bank and the smoked crowd at a disorienting degree. For a klick, though, Soundwave spotted the glint of yellow plating in the fog, plating similar to a mech running past him. He pulled away from the mech’s consciousness and bolted in the direction the yellow mech had come from.

Gradually, the smoke cleared as he ran further away from the center of the street. The group came into sight just as they reached the space between the bank and the store next to it. Soundwave wasted no time following after them.

His sudden appearance sent the small group into a panic before any of them realized who had followed them. A femme slowed to speak with him, but Soundwave pushed her and her companions forward. They weren’t yet out of view of the street, a fact that rested heavily in his awareness. Only once his creation was far from the chaos of that scene would he cease his desperate race for safety.

Fortunately, no one in the group questioned him. They weaved between buildings, not stopping until they were several streets away, until the sounds of violence were no longer heard. Finally slowing to a walk in a corridor, Soundwave peered down the adjoining alleys. No one appeared to have followed them.

The six of them stood there, vents heaving and legs burning, looking over one another. Soundwave was quick to note a femme with a sizable dent in her chest plates and a mech with a hole through one arm, but the rest only seemed shaken.

He tried not to let whatever was overtaking him reach any sort of validity. This was always a possible ending, much as he had prayed for otherwise.

That thought struck something fragile in him. He had prayed. He had prayed that he had made the correct decision in leading this protest. He had prayed for his followers, for their resolve and their safety. He had begged Primus time and time again for those who opposed him so ignorantly to have open minds and open sparks. To see past the large miners, the sleek prostitutes, the scarred addicts and come to see sparks no different than their own.

His back found a wall as his body began to feel weak. Was he _wrong_? Had the Primus he had sworn to love truly created every person with a different function in mind? With a different value?

Soundwave shook himself. Such a notion was not to be entertained. His god was a being of creation and infinite love.

But why, then, would his prayers be ignored?

A hesitant part of him felt certain of an answer, but Soundwave wasn’t sure he was ready to hear it. How long had he spent beside Orion Pax, preaching peace and a nonviolent means towards justice? And how often did their attempts end in disappointment or tragedy?

At some point, reality refused to be denied. 

Those lovely ideas the kind archivist had conceived were not going to work. The longer his people declined to fight those willing and able to fight them, then the more they would all meet no less ridiculous an end as a pacifist in the gladiatorial arena. Their movement would be doomed to die with them.

 _Primus_ , he prayed, sliding down to his knees and clasping his hands across his forehelm, _I see your intentions for me, now._

If he was going to succeed in bringing about an age of prosperity to all people of all makes, then he could no longer stand by and allow harm to befall them.

_Forgive me, as you did for my actions in the arena._

It was obvious now, with the scene still reeling in his consciousness. The time for calm reasoning had long since ended. It was too late for too many.

Soundwave closed his eyes around the tears collecting in his optics, bowing his head so the others couldn’t see them stream down his mask. In order to live—in order for Ravage to live—he needed to destroy once more. 

A hand pressed into his shoulder followed by another. Two more found his other side. Soundwave lifted just enough to witness the others coming to kneel beside him, bowing in their own prayers. He closed his eyes again, taking in their troubled thoughts and breaking resolves. When he finally found it in him to rise, they rose with him.

“Soundwave?” the injured mech asked. “Where do we go now?”

There had been a few places in mind here in Iacon: Shockwave’s laboratory, Orion Pax’s apartment, even the Hall of Records. But Shockwave’s status was unknown, Orion, he was sure, would not welcome them given the “riot” he had started, and Alpha Trion was liable to be elsewhere. There was no neighboring city that supported their cause, and all others were still divided. Bute there were a few places still favoring the Decepticons, the closest also being the most devoted.

“Kaon,” he answered. “Send: to fellow Decepticons. Message: regroup in Kaon.”

“Regroup?”

With a deep in-vent and a pulse of certainty to a troubled Ravage, Soundwave tilted his helm skyward, lending those around him the vaguest of views past his visor, so that they might see his newfound resolution. “This was the last time we cower.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! I have been wanting to write this since I attended a BLM rally and needed to work through some of my own feelings regarding the backlash the movement has received. 
> 
> Also! All my work exists in the same timeline. So, if you're curious about what happens after this, I have a fic up that goes through Soundwave's and Shockwave's life during the war as well as more to come. 
> 
> Stay safe! Stay kind! Stay happy!


End file.
